Washington sprang to set the gas machine in operation. He seemed to be having trouble with it.
"She won't work!" he called. "She's busted!"
Faster and faster the airship continued to sink. The inventor hurried to Washington's help, but it seemed that nothing could be done. On board the Monarch there was deadly fear in every heart.
"I can't keep her afloat!" the professor groaned.
Down and down went the craft. The inventor and Washington were working furiously. The boys, old Andy and Tom and Bill hurried to the engine room.
Then came a sudden jolt. The airship had struck the ice!
"Shut off the engines!" cried the professor. "Stop everything or we'll go to smash! We must set to work to repair the gas machine and raise the ship."
The Monarch had settled down on a vast ice plane. So gently had the ship sunk through the air that she had suffered no injury. She rested on an even keel and there was still enough lifting power in the gas contained in the bag to keep that afloat, so that the vapor holder tugged gently at the confining meshes of the net.
"Ma goodness sakes alive!" cried Washington as soon as he had poked his head out of the warm engine room. "De atmospheric conditions am such dat dey is conducive to de utmost congestion of mah circulatory systemation!"
"I suppose you mean it is too cold for your blood," spoke the inventor, with a smile.